Poseidon's Son
by D-Kat
Summary: Polyphemus shares HIS side of the story.
1. Speck

There was something about the cave that wasn't right.

Though I wasn't sure what it was, it nagged at me like a fly might bother a blind cat.

I took a quick inventory of the back wall. Everything seemed to be in place, the cheeses on their drying racks, the sheep and their kids in the appropriate pens. Nothing was out of order. Nothing that I could see anyway.

Still, the fly hounded its blind cat.

_No matter. I'll figure it out soon enough._

I turned to leave again, to retrieve the sheep from outside. They bleated happily at me as I shooed the rams to one side and herded the ewes in through the gaping hole in the rocky hillside.

One look over my shoulder insured that the rams were content in their grassy yard, no pens to restrain them. They were too stupid to venture off the cliff by themselves. They would only fall to their deaths, bashed against the sea-side rocks more than two hundred feet below.

If they weren't smart enough to know not too, it was their loss. And mine as well, for they were my livelihood—my only friends, though I cared little for them. It was they who needed me. I was their shepherd, of sorts.

I didn't much care for the ewes either. But they listened to me when I spoke to them and I listened to their meaningless bleating. For all I knew, they were trying to tell me things. Having dealt with them for so many years had surely turned my brain to mush, I knew.

Having successfully grouped the ewes into the cave, I stepped inside behind them and heaved the door (a hilltop I had torn from above the cave and fashioned into a large ball that I could roll) in front of the yawning entrance.

I hurried about my evening chores. They consisted of milking the sheep, then gave them to their respective young.

The milk was another shore entirely. I thickened it into curds and whey and then sifted the curds through a basket that was weaved like mesh of a chicken fence. The whey, I left to cool in several bowls for dinner.

The fire was beginning to dim, so I grabbed the kindling that I had brought in earlier and threw them recklessly on the fire.

It was then that I, the blind cat, found the fly.

There were several men staring at me from the far end of the cave. They were all no taller than my ankle. And they each had a pair of eyes.

_Two eyes! Humans, then._

As a Cyclops, it was unusual for anyone to have more than one eye. A mutation, some called it. I rather preferred 'abomination.'

They were staring at me with those huge unnatural eyes. My heart nearly stopped.

_Where have they come from?_

To them, it must seem rather odd for a creature so large to be afraid of them—they were no larger than the ewes' lambs.

So I mustered my courage and spoke. "Who are you, strangers? Where are you from? Are you wandering—come to steal my wages?" My voice rang uncertainly, I thought, but they trembled before me as the words rumbled from within my throat.

One of the little men spoke. "We are from Troy and were blown off course." He motioned to the rest of them. "We are homeward bound, you see, and we are taking routes uncommon, for we are Greeks."

Then, as if to brag, he said, "All of us have served under Agamemnon, son of Atreus—the whole _world,_ knows what city he laid waste, what armies he has destroyed. It is our luck that we stand here, beholden for your help or any gifts you give. We would entreat you, great Sir, have a care for the god's courtesy for Zeus will avenge the offending guest."

He spoke with the odd authority of one above me, his voice condescending.

It was odd. For such a small creature, he spoke with his nose in the air as though he were ruler of worlds.

Anger began to build in my chest. Who was this tiny man to think that he should better me?

The other men nodded at their speaker's words, all agreeing with what he said.

"Telling me to mind the gods, are you? Bah!" I snorted at this. "Cyclopes care not one bit for your thundering Zeus or all the gods in bliss. We have far more force by far! I would not let you or your friends go for fear of Zeus."

The speaker, I shall call him Speck, for he was tiny in my eye, looked surprised at this but did not reply.

It occurred to me that people do not just fall out of the sky. They would have some means of travel. And there had to be more of them . . . didn't there?

"Tell me, now. Where was it that you left your ship? Around the point, or down the shore?"

This time, Speck glances back at his men. He was nervous, perhaps. But he answered quickly enough.

"My ship? Poseidon Lord broke it upon the rocks at your land's end. A wind from seaward served him, drove us there. We are survivors, these good men and I." He motioned to the others.

_So he is the leader, then._

His words spoke in anger to my heart—how dare he lie—and I had the sudden urge to smash him. But instead, I went for two of the others.

The men scattered before me and I caught the slowest two in one hand. They cried out and beat my hand with their tiny fists. But before they could do any harm, I bashed them against the cave floor, their brains spattering about.

Speck and his friends had gathered against the far wall and were huddled together, out of my reach.

At this point, I wasn't sure what to do. I had just killed two of Speck's men, after all. What, then, was I to do? Kill the others as well?

I saw no reasoning to this. Why kill them when they could be put to use?

But I saw no use for them, as they were too small to do anything.

_Food . . . ? _

Maybe. I had never eaten a human before. But there's a first for everything.

So I tore them apart, these two dead men.

It wasn't good. Certainly not. But it were food, none the less. I ate them quickly, not leaving a single bite, or I knew they would rot and stink up the cave.

To wash down the meal, I gulped whey that I had set to cool earlier.

_Nasty stuff, those humans._

Feeling sick and nauseous, I stumbled to the other side of the cave, where I collapsed among the sheep.

I was asleep soon after, my stomach aching.


	2. Ambrosia and Nectar

The fire had gone out when I awoke. I built it back up and went about the chores, milking the ewes and such. All the while, I couldn't shake the sick feeling that had, still, settled on my stomach.

But, then, I figured it would be better for me to eat the men than it would be for me to eat my own sheep.

They were watching me from the far end of the cave, beyond the reaches of the fire's light. I pondered whether I should leave them be, but decided that food was just the same as any.

I started towards them, they, knowing what I was coming for. Again, I caught the two slowest and had them for a meal. Breakfast.

I washed the manflesh down with more whey and then herded my ewes together. They bleated at me, knowing it was time to go.

My stomach had settled, if not a tiny bit. For all I knew, the sickness I'd felt before was only a small bug that I'd caught during the day yesterday.

I rolled the stone from in front of the entrance and hurried the sheep through the opening. It worried me that Speck might try to escape while I was busy. Then I pulled the stone back to close off their exit.

None had escaped.

The other sheep—the rams—were already at my side. I grabbed my shepherd staff (a pole I'd fashioned from a tree) and tapped the lead ram.

Then I whistled for the other sheep. They followed closely, their stupid bleating ringing in my ears. This was the least that i needed.

I led then to the usual spot—above the cave and near the edge of a cliff. It was near the sea so I could look out on it while I worked. It wasn't much fun, herding sheep. I had to admit that much at least.

And I still had a problem at hand.

_How am I to rid myself of these puny humans?_

I had no idea. The only obvious thing was to eat them all. Just the thought turned my stomach. Though I'd rather eat than starve, humans were definitely not on my 'favorite foods' list.

It worried me that they might be smart creatures. Smart would mean that they could plan on killing me while I slept.

_But if they were smart, they would have done it last night . . . right? _

Right. They were stupid, then.

I settled on a rock—my favorite rock for sitting. It was flat and tall, and a good lookout for watching the flock. They were troublesome every once in a while when I took them near the cliffs.

The sun was hot on my back and I knew it couldn't be more than midday. I had a long day ahead of me.

The sheep were getting restless. It wasn't time to go yet, but I was nervous.

_What if the humans have found a way to escape?_

Though I doubted it (they were stupid) I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. So I whistled for the flock and they gathered quickly, bleating their song.

I tapped the lead ram again and he bounded past me, then look back as if to ask if I was following. He reminded me of a dog.

I never named any of my flock. I could tell them apart easily enough. But this one was the easiest. He seemed to be smarter than the rest, if anything.

The flock followed me down the small hill that led to the cave. It was the only hill the sheep could actually pass over—another reason why I'd chosen the cliff above my cave.

I leaned my staff against the rock wall and rolled the stone away from the entrance. The fire was small now, its light weakening.

The men were once again huddled in the far corner of the cave.

I hurried the flock—all of them—into the cave this time. There was rain in the air and clouds had begun to move across the horizon. There was nothing that stank worse than damp sheep wool.

Then I rolled the rock back over the opening, much to the humans' dismay.

I hurried through the chores again and penned the flock into one large side of the cave. It would be better, I'd decided, if they weren't roaming all over the place.

Then I caught two more men and ate them for dinner. Though they still tasted nasty, my stomach was finally settling to the idea of humans.

I then sat at the fire, thinking nothing, really. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that something was different about the cave.

I looked over at the pile of trees propped against the cavern wall that I had collected to assemble a new sheep's pen. The pile looked smaller than it had the day before, when I'd brought them in early the day before.

_Ah, well._

But I doubted the puny men could have lifted them. I dismissed the thought with no further pondering.

Soon after, Speck approached me with a bowl of something in his hands. He held it out to me and said, "Cyclops, here is some wine to wash down your scraps of men. Taste it and see what we carried under our planks."

I regarded the tiny man that held the bowl out for me. Why would he be giving a gift to me now?

"I had meant it as an offering if you had helped us home," Speck continued," But you are mad, unbearable, a bloody monster! After this, will any other traveler come to see you?"

I didn't much care if any other travelers came to see me. After this, I would despise even the thought of another man.

But there could be no harm in drinking a bowl of wine. So I seized the bowl and drank it all in one gulp. I had never tasted anything like it. Wine had never been my thing, but this was . . . _good._

"Give me another," I told Speck. "Tell me, what is your name? I'll make a gift will please you. Even Cyclopes know that wine-grapes grow out of the grassland and loam in the heaven's rain, but here's a bit of ambrosia and nectar!"

He didn't answer my question, but brought me more wine like I'd ordered. Three in total, maybe more. By the time he answered me, I knew I was drunk.

"Cyclops, you ask my honorable name?"

The word 'honorable' had a bit of exaggeration to it that made it sound as though he thought he was the most important man on earth. I would have scoffed, but was too out of it to realize what he had really said.

"Remember the gift you promised me and, and I will tell you. My name is Nohbdy. My mother, father, and friends, everyone calls me Nohbdy."

Somehow I was standing, though I couldn't remember how or when I had gotten up. I reeled back as I said, "Nohbdys my meat, then, after I eat his friends. The others come first. There's a noble gift, now."

In that instant, I fell to the ground and knocked my head against the wall of the cave.

It was, I have to say, the biggest mistake of my life. (No exaggeration there.)


	3. The Blind Cat and His Fly

Pain is usually associated with something that hurts. (That's a 'well _duh_'moment.)

But when I woke up screaming, with my brain exploding and fireworks going off behind my eye, I wasn't sure if it was pain or if it was the world that was ending. What's more, I couldn't _see_.

Something was in my eye, the something that set the flashes of color of in my head. It hissed and popped and searing pain reached to my fingertips as that something twisted in my eye socket.

_Nohbdy has tricked me!_

I yelled again and swung my arm at whatever might stand before me. I came without anything and stumbled to my feet while taking hold of the pole in my eye.

_My missing sheep-pen pole. _

I tore it from my socket and threw it to the ground, my hand sticky with what felt like blood. I bellowed to the cave that surrounded me and called to the surrounding mountains.

Someone called from outside the cave, "What ails you, Polyphemus? Why do you cry sore in the night? You won't let us sleep! Surely no man is driving off you flock, no man has tricked you—ruined you?"

I roared in answer, more from pain than anger—but anger also was my aide. "Nohbdy, Nohbdy's tricked me, Nohbdy's ruined me!"

Their reply was, "Ah, well, if nobody has tricked you, we are no use in pain given by Zeus. Let it be your father, Poseidon Lord, to whom you pray."

_His name! Surely 'Nohbdy' wasn't his name. He had said it to make a fool of me!_

The Cyclops that had answered my call, I'm not sure who it was, for the rock walls muffled the voice, left then, leaving me to my pain.

I fell into a blind rage (literally speaking) and threw myself at the door. Finding it was the hard part. My hands soon found where the rock was rolled in the opening. Then I rolled it from the door.

_Nohbdy will not fool me again._

Then I squatted in the doorway, my arms spread wide to catch him when he and the others tried to escape.

But they never tried. I was wheezing now, my breath coming in quick gasps and I knew I should try to sleep.

_Maybe the pain will be gone tomorrow. _

I knew this was a petty lie. So I refused to sleep. I stayed in the doorway in the same position for the rest of the night, hoping that somehow, Nohbdy would change his mind about leaving and try while I was there.

When finally I felt the sun on my back, I knew it had to be late morning. My head ached terribly as I stood and left the cave entrance for only a moment to fumble about for my shepherding staff. I found it and tapped the ground around me until I knew I was back in cavern.

The bleating was somehow more unbearable than ever before as I rounded the flock up with a whistle.

To make sure that Nohbdy and his friends slipped past me, I took a position in the doorway and felt the backs and sides of all the sheep that passed by, in case they were riding on them. I found it odd that the several of the rams passed by three at a time, side by side, but thought nothing of it.

The last ram to pass was the largest one—the favorite of mine that was always eager be the first. It seemed strange that he should lag behind the rest.

"Sweet cousin ram," I said, though I'd ever spoken to my sheep before, "why, now, are you so far behind the rest? Could it be that you are mourning for your master's eye?"

Anger built in my chest as I spoke to him of Nohbdy. "That carrion rogue and his accurst friends burnt it out when he conquered all my senses with wine. Nohbdy will not get out alive, I swear!"

The ram's head nudged me in the leg and I continued, knowing he must be listening. "Oh, were you smarter, and had a voice, I would ask you where he may be now, dodging all my fury!. Bashed by this hand and on this rock wall his brains will strew the floor."

I tapped the ram's back with my staff to let him continue on his way. I didn't bother taking them up and over the hill just yet. My head was pounding again and I couldn't bear to stand. I sat in the grass a ways from the cave after I had closed it's opening with the rock.

After sitting for some time, listening to the pathetic bleating of my flock, I stood and tapped along the ground until I came to the hill. I started up, whistling for the flock to follow, for I knew they would.

But they didn't and I turned back, not hearing them anymore.

_Where have they gone? Surely they couldn't have wandered so far off while I wasn't paying attention, but trying to find my way to the hill._

I hurried back down the hill and got down on hands and knees to feel the ground for their hoof-prints. Instead, I found tethers and ropes.

_What are these from?_

After a minute or two of searching, I found the prints and followed then, fumbling along until I came to another hill that led down to the beach. But I knew I would not find them. I was blind and it would be worthless to search for them.

I had just stood and gone back to retrieve my stick when I heard, from behind me, a voice.

"O Cyclops! Would you feast on my companions? Puny, am I, in the Caveman's hands? How do you like the beating that we gave you, you damned cannibal? Eater of guests under your own roof! Zeus and the gods have paid you!"

It was Nohbdy, I knew. He had escaped, then! In my rage, I reached for something, anything, and found a hilltop. I tore it from it's base and hurled it after the voice, knowing it wouldn't find its mark—but hoping. Definitely hoping. But there was nothing but a splash in return.

There was nothing for sometime and I thought they had left, so I turned back again to get my staff. Before I could find it, Nohbdy's voice came again, this time from farther away.

"Cyclops, if ever a mortal man inquire how you were put to shame and blinded, tell him Odysseus, raider of cities, took your eye, whose home is on Ithaca!"

I reeled in shock. This was as Telemus had foretold! To Odysseus, I roared, "A wizard lived here—Telemus, a son of Eurymus; great length of days he had in wizardry among the Cyclops. And these things he foretold for time to come. My great eye lost, and at Odysseus's hands."

I was sitting on the ground, somehow, my hands tearing grass from their roots in my anger. "I had always imagined some great giant force, would come here to get me. But you—small, pitiful, and twiggy—you put me down with wine and blinded me."

There was no reply and I thought maybe they had gone. For good measure, I continued. "Come back, Odysseus and I'll treat you well, praying the god of earthquake befriend you—his son I am. If he will, he may heal me of this black wound."

To my surprise, there was a reply. "If I could take your life, I would and take your time away, and hurl you down to hell! The god of earthquake could not heal you there!"

Again there was a magnificent pounding where my eye should be and somewhere in my mind I imagined it smoking as I stood and threw my arms into the air, my staff once again in my fist.

To the sky I let loose the roar that had been festering in my throat.

"O hear me, lord, if I am yours, and you are my father, grant that Odysseus never see his homeland of Ithaca. Should destiny intend that he shall see his roof again among his family, far be that day, and dark the years between. Let him lose all companions, friends or otherwise, and return under strange sail to bitter days at home."

In fury, I reached for something else to hurl at him. I found a rock this time, larger than the hilltop that I had thrown before. This I launched after them, not knowing whether it struck them or not.

There was a mighty splash as before, then silence. I knew then that they had been the ones to take my flock. But it didn't matter any longer. There was nothing I could do about it.

My father Poseidon Lord, if he wished it be, would give them trouble enough.

And it was then that the blind cat lost it's fly. (And, _no_, I'm not trying to be funny about it.)


End file.
